Advice from Miss Swann
by Mooncheese
Summary: Pirate! He’s a thieving, cheating Pirate! I love Will. Me and Will fit neatly together, like two estranged pieces of the same puzzle...so why, for the love of Mary, can I not get Jack Sparrow out of my head?


If there exists one piece of advice that I could give to the whole world, to the whole of womankind, then it would have to be the thought that has been preying on my mind for the last two months.

Never, _ever, _fall in love with Jack Sparrow.

Once you fall head over heels for old Jack, you never quite manage to flip yourself the right way up again. Even when you know he's a pirate, a scandalous, cheating, despicable thief, a daylight robber.

Even when you know he has lied and used you before.

Even when you are already in love with someone else. Someone who is perfect for you. Someone who would never hurt you.

The first time I met Jack, he had just torn my corset away from me and I had woken up from near-death. A certain death, if it hadn't been for him. Oh, it sounds all very fine and heroic now: Jack diving into the sea to rescue a girl whose lungs were being crushed by her infernal dress, but don't forget: seconds after that dramatic rescue he was threatening to kill me. I think that was what caught my attention about him – his sheer, unapologetic lack of scruples.

I was very much in love with Will at the time, though I had neither admitted it to myself or anyone else. Needless to say, I thought of Jack after that event, but I never would have dreamt that it could have led to anything more. He was a disgusting pirate, and he wasn't worthy of any emotion from me at all.

Then we were alone on that Godforsaken island, and quite without warning, everything I had thought about him turned upside down and inside out.

Rum. Transforms even the hardest of drinkers into loud mouthed, idiotic lunatics, and so you can imagine what a mere half bottle did to me, Elizabeth Swann, the girl who is accustomed to a glass of wine per night. There was something wonderfully reckless about guzzling a liquid that scorched and burnt its way down my throat, stumbling and singing my way around a huge fire with the most infamous pirate there is. I remember watching him through the flames that danced and bowed to the inky sky above us – the way he stumbled with his characteristic swagger, his eyes sparkling with the alcohol. He sang and he slurred and eventually thumped into the sand, watching me dance toward him, then caught hold of my dress and hauled me down next to him.

Our arms touched – I took no notice. I was busy catching my breath.

"I love this song!" he slurred happily, toasting absolutely nothing with a slosh of his rum bottle. "When I get the Pearl back, 'M gonna teach it ter the whole crew – and we'll sing it all the time!"

I grinned, imagining it. "And you'll positively be the most feared pirates in the whole of the Spanish Main!"

He blinked at me, his liquid brown eyes animated under his tattooed eye make up. "Not just the Spanish Main, love…" He grinned widely, showing off his gold tooth. "The entire ocean. The entire world!"

He turned and gazed into the fire, the flames throwing his features into sharp relief. "Tha's what a ship is, y'know. It's not just a keel, and a hull and a deck – that's what a ship needs, but what a ship _is…_what the Black Pearl is...is freedom."

Freedom. The word resonated between the two of us and the fire. I knew his speech revealed some barely repressed pain he had inside. Even with the rum fogging my brain and clouding my senses, I could see that his words barely touched upon how he felt about that damn ship of his. I could see the Black Pearl in his eyes, riding the mystery of the storm, embracing its unknown future, captained and tainted by Barbossa.

And, quite without warning, I wanted to make him feel better. I wanted to take some of that pain away.

"Jack," I slurred, leaning on his shoulder and bumping the top of my head to his chin. "It must be really terrible for you to be stuck here on this island."

Subconsciously, I noticed his hand touch lightly upon my shoulder, and a vague rush of adrenaline poured through me, warming me in a completely different way to the fire. My heart sped up. I didn't want him to let go.

"Oh yes, terrible," he said, his voice purring deeply through his chest. "But you know, the company is definitely better than last time. Scenery has improved…"

Subconsciously, I knew exactly what he was thinking about. Subconsciously, the images poured through my mind before I could stop them – _lips touching, eyes closing to a dark, passion filled world…_

Will's face appeared before my minds eye, angry and hurt - "_I love you, Elizabeth, and this is how you repay me?"_ I flinched. Jack's hand dropped away as though it had never been there.

"Mr Sparrow!" I said, letting the rum twist my words into shocked outrage. "I don't think I've had enough rum to allow that sort of talk!"

His eyes burned quietly into mine, and an internal hand reached toward him, but conscious, sensible thought grabbed its wrist with a snarl, slapping it and pushing into the back of my mind.

"I know exactly what you mean, love." I withheld a giggle. Did he? Did he _really_?

"To freedom!" I toasted, smiling at him.

In my drunken stupor, it took me exactly three seconds to realise that his hand was curled gently at the nape of my neck, and that his face had been leaning toward me.

Oh yes. He knew what I meant, alright.

"To the Black Pearl," he corrected softly, and we drank to our toasts.

That was a mere month ago, yet it feels like decades. I can still feel the heat from the fire striking me in the face, the sturdy feel of Jack's shoulder supporting my head. The slight weight of his hand on my skin.

_Pirate! _He's a God-damn, thieving, cheating Pirate!

Yet something about him draws me to him. So boldly different to Will – dear Will who smells faintly of hot iron and the warmth of a Blacksmith's work place. Sweet Will, with his rough hands and melting eyes and courage uncharacteristic of a poor man.

I love _Will_. Me and Will fit neatly together, like two estranged pieces of the same puzzle. He would die for me, and die happily if it was in the knowledge that I was safe. Such a man is hard to come by. Such a man is an extreme rarity.

And yet…

When Jack whips around at the slightest hint of danger, his eyes alert and eager for adventure, I do not think of Will. When Jack confuses and fools and twists any situation to his advantage, Will is the last person on my mind. And when Jack gazes at me…when I become the centre of his attention, I find I cannot think of anything else at all. I find that nothing else matters very much anyway. My mind becomes full of him, like an intoxicating drug creeping into my bloodstream and pounding with my heart – his wild, dark eyes, his swagger, his constant slur, the twitch of a smirk tugging at his lips.

And then he looks away, and I am left, gasping as though someone hurled a bucket of cold water at me. The world returns with a sharp smack. Disorientated, I try to return to my duties, or whatever I was doing at the time, while all my instincts are screaming for me to follow him.

And now…everything I do is haunted by him. Every thought, every movement, every little thing I do is punctured with images of him. He _is _a drug. I'm addicted. And there's no getting away from it.

If there exists one piece of advice that I could give to the world, to womankind, to the entire universe, then it would be to never, _ever _fall in love with Captain Jack Sparrow. Not if you want to live your life in the same way again.

0o0

Hey...I know, not my usual scene. But I couldn't resist. Hope you enjoyed it, and please review!

Love and peace xxx


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